


Star Spangled Man Without A Plan

by Cuppa_Cake



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 1940s, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom!Bucky, Come Swallowing, Drinking, Eventual Smut, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Slash, Spooning, WWII, top!steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 07:12:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2959262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuppa_Cake/pseuds/Cuppa_Cake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New Year's Eve, 1943: Steve's feelings for Bucky finally come to light and much to his surprise, Bucky feels the same way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There will be more chapters in the works containing multiple, gratuitous, and explicit sex scenes. You're welcome.

The Howling Commandos had another mission ready in two days’ time, but for now they were given the day and night to ring in the New Year at the Café L’hiver in Lyon, France, which was a popular haunt for the French Resistance and their British and American allies. Such a gathering made for one hell of a party. There was a small, five-piece band of Frenchman who did their best to emulate American jazz with instruments meant for musette, can can, and cabaret. “In The Mood” with an accordion rather loses something, but service men don’t need an orchestra to have fun.

With the few ladies that were present, the soldiers were lining up for a chance to dance with them. Steve Rogers, however, found himself actively pursued by a few cute French locals, as well as some British and American nurses who wanted a dance with Captain America himself. He might have taken one or two of them up on their offer had he not been afraid to step on them—and if he knew how to dance.

Instead, he directed them at Bucky. Like Bucky, there were plenty of guys in that café who could show the girls a better time than Steve could. He didn’t know the first thing about women and wasn’t prepared to learn. Especially since he had recently discovered some troublesome flutters every time he caught the eye of Sergeant Barnes.

It was something he’d felt countless times when he was skinny, often when Bucky would show up in the nick of time to save him from a knuckle sandwich or a shoe to the face. It even happened when nothing was happening at all and he and Bucky were just wasting time together in Brooklyn neighborhoods. Steve always passed it off as either nerves from a lost fight or his own consistently disagreeable organs.

This fluttering that he felt with Bucky was by no means sickness or pain, but it did sometimes make him a little dizzy. He was sure that, whatever malady was behind it on his laundry list of afflictions, it was cured right along with his asthma, anemia, and hypotension. That is until he felt it now in his better-than-perfect health. He was feeling it with a mind made clearer by a super soldier serum and a little more life experience. His heart was four times more efficient than the average human’s and Bucky made it beat like it was ready to give out. There was more to his love for Bucky than friendship or brotherhood. Steve didn’t want to admit it—even to himself.

Midnight was fast approaching, and the drunker everyone was, the louder the party became. So, Steve stole away for some fresh air in the cold night. Unless if they were filled with enough giggle juice, no one ventured out into the snowy streets of Lyon so long as they could stay inside where it was warm. It wasn’t that Steve was immune to the cold, but he was relatively comfortable wearing only his trench coat over the layers of his dress uniform and no hat. It wasn’t snowing at the moment, after all.

He hunkered down in one of the café’s outdoor chairs, his back against the window. Enough light poured out from the party inside that he was able to see the worn pages of a small sketchbook that he carried in his pocket, the pencil idly scratching away to shadow in the details of the buildings across the street. The moon was just bright enough to make them stand out against the skyline. His mind was drifting a million miles away.

That notebook had more than doodles of buildings or monkey’s on unicycles in it. Over the past few months, Steve had tried to put Bucky on paper. Not that it was anything necessarily bad, it was just attempts at capturing that smile he hadn’t seen from his friend since before the war, or capturing the contours of his face in as few pencil lines as possible.

Though there was enough noise coming from the café to drown out an elephant stampede, Steve’s ears were quite impeccable and he heard someone approach. Glancing up, he saw that it was Bucky. Thanks to all the dancing, sweat had collected on Bucky’s brow, dampening those dark locks. He had long abandoned the jacket of his uniform, leaving him in his dress shirt, which was also disheveled and drenched in sweat. His tie was nowhere in sight and neither was his hat. His cheeks were pink and his dog tags clinked together as he approached with a pint of beer in each hand.

“Can’t keep up with them in there…” Bucky leaned over Steve’s chair with a crooked grin.

He smelled of whiskey, sweat, and various perfumes (no doubt from the array of women). Steve wanted to think it meant the sergeant was having a good time.

“Here, brought ya one…” Bucky nudged a drink at him.

“Thanks…” Without so much as raising it to his lips, he frowned disapprovingly up at Bucky. “You wanna catch a cold or something?”

Innocently, Bucky leaned back and straightened his body. He took a gulp of his beer, set it down on the small table next to Steve, then raised an index finger before he ducked back into the pub. Steve’s frown became more quizzical as he watched Bucky disappear. What emerged had both of Steve’s brows raise, a crooked, half-disbelieving smile appearing.

He was wearing a lady’s shawl—which was hideously pink—but Bucky wore it proudly along with a newly acquired lipstick mark on his cheek. He hunkered down next to Steve and knocked shoulders with him. The shawl dripped from his shoulders, and when he opened his arms, the beads on the bottom of it clinked.

“It’s not Army standard but it’s fashionable.” His grin was followed by a boyish chuckle. “Now drink your beer…”

He picked up his own and took a rather large gulp.

“Too bad pink’s not really your color.” The sketchbook and pencil were dropped onto the table. “Cheers…” he held his own glass to the bottom of Bucky’s and took a large swallow, for all the good it would do him.

Bucky, meanwhile, burped as he lowered his mug, cheeks puffing outward as he blew away the offending fumes in the opposite direction of Steve’s face.

“Well, that’s not fair…” Bucky said. “I distinctly remember saying that blue was your color…” His serious tone was broken up by another chuckle. “I think the pink brings out my natural skin tones…”

Or maybe that was the alcohol…

“As your friend, I’m obligated to speak some painful truths…” Steve joked and leaned back in his chair, his hand loosely around his own mug.

Steve couldn’t help studying him quietly for a moment. Bucky looked too ragged to be a man having fun. If anyone knew what James Barnes looked like when he was having a good time it was Steve. The beer wasn’t even lasting ten minutes and it was no small mug, either. It caused a pang inside the captain to see his friend look for comfort in a bottle or a glass. Lips parted, on the verge of asking if Bucky was actually okay, but they pressed together tightly and his eyes dipped back to his beer. If there was something wrong with Bucky the last thing he needed was an interrogation about it.

Steve’s gaze drifted away. There was a creeping sensation of guilt over the fact that he was so resilient to pain and trauma that he really had no use for alcohol. Why did life have to be easier for Steve and not Bucky? He was stirred from his thoughts when the sketchbook was picked up.

Steve opened his mouth and started forward, his heart jumping into his throat.

“Still drawing, huh?” Bucky idly paged through it.

“Yeah, it’s just…. relaxing, I guess. Not exactly masterpieces or anything…”

As much as he wanted to snatch it out of his hands, that would have been a sure fire invitation for Bucky to see what was in it. He was able to take a breath when the page turning stopped on the monkey doodle and Bucky squinted at it in the dim light.

“I always pictured you a little less hairy and more uncoordinated…”

Steve gave a breathy chuckle. “Believe me, if you’d seen me at the time, that doesn’t even begin to capture it…” With a clearing of his throat, he jutted a thumb at the window behind him. “Don’t you think we should get back in there where it’s warm? Looks like you could use a refill anyway…”

Diversion. That was Steve’s best tactic at the moment. His hands were on the arms of his chair, moving to stand so that he could herd Bucky back indoors. Then the next page was turned and Steve knew Bucky could see what he was hiding.

_It was him._

Steve froze, all air trapped in his lungs as he waited for… well, he didn’t know what to expect. Bucky stared at it and Steve could see him swallow hard. It was a portrait of the sergeant smiling, the next page just sketches of his eyes and mouth, but with great detail. Maybe Bucky would just be flattered and they could forget about it. But the longer Steve stared at his face in silence, the less sure he was. He couldn’t quite read his friend’s mind just now and it scared him.

Bucky looked up and his mouth hung open slightly. For the first time in Steve Rogers’ life he wanted to run away. He could handle a back alley beat down or being the target of every bully in Brooklyn, but he wasn’t so sure he could handle his best friend looking at him differently.

Bucky’s features softened and he exhaled into the cool night air. As midnight drew near the café had gone from rowdy to surprisingly quiet and through the thin glass windows could be heard the soft trill of music, silhouettes twirling against the frosted glass.

Bucky gently set down the notebook and pulled the shawl from his shoulders to drape across his chair as he stood up.

Steve’s body was stiff, his breathing shallow as his words shook from him. “Look, Bucky—”

A hand outstretched itself and he took hold of Steve’s own digits, pulling him up with surprising strength. He still hadn’t said anything as he led Steve around the side of the building. They could still hear the music. Steve didn’t even notice where Bucky was taking him, he was far too dazed. He was far too aware of the warmth of their joined palms that had been calloused by fighting.

“You always said no one wanted to dance with you…” In the seclusion of the night Bucky drew close and Steve’s face and ears burned with the sudden rush of heat. “Somethin’ about being afraid of being stepped on?” Bucky smiled and Steve’s superior stomach flip flopped. “I don’t think you’ll have that problem now…”

Was Bucky saying what Steve thought he was saying?

The answer came when one arm looped itself around Steve’s thick waist and the other held his hand. Steve’s hand acted on its own, cautiously sliding its way up Bucky’s bicep until it came to his shoulder blade, splaying over the span of muscles and bone beneath his uniform shirt. Bucky wasn’t scooting away or running for the hills and it left Steve in a state of shock.

“You’re such a punk…” he whispered and moved slowly to the music with Steve close.

Steve finally let out a short, nervous laugh, his gaze dropping with embarrassment. The motion to the music already had him lightheaded. Bucky’s sway was a lot less graceful than it usually was thanks to the alcohol, and though Steve considered his judgment to be seriously impaired by it, there was surprisingly clarity in his eyes when Steve looked into them again.

“So you’re not…? This isn’t…?” He couldn’t form the words ‘bothered’ and ‘wrong’. This almost seemed too good to be true.

Bucky simply shook his head. “Remember what I told you back then on the bridge?” He leaned a bit closer. “When Hydra’s weapons factory was about to go up in smoke?” Lips neared Steve’s ear. “I said I wouldn’t leave without you…” His voice dropped down into a whisper, words complemented by the lull of the music and Steve’s eyes fluttered closed. “I meant it. I’ve always meant it. Even when we were kids…” Mouth hotly fell onto that tender shell and Steve turned his head just enough for their temples to meet. “It just took me awhile to understand my feelings… I’ve never wanted to leave you. It’s why I was always by your side.”

They weren’t exactly dancing at this point, they were just vaguely swaying to the muted music from the café.

“I dunno what I’d do without you...” Steve’s confession came out quietly and he pulled Bucky in a little tighter, to block out some of the cold that surrounded them. “Guess that’s why I was so scared…”

Steve Rogers afraid? There was a brief silence as he savored the moment, however long it was going to last.

“Bucky…” he murmured quietly at his ear. “This isn’t just because you’re stinkin’ drunk, is it?”

The sergeant let out a sloppy snort. “I’ll have you know, Captain America, I am only _slightly_ , sauced…”

In the distance the ringing of a bell could be heard.

_Midnight._

Steve had never been kissed when ringing in the new year, but he knew the custom well, especially in all the years that Bucky always had a dame to lock lips with. Bucky drew back enough to look Steve in the eye, his lower lip drawn inward and a sheepish smile appearing. Without warning, he leaned forward and captured Steve’s mouth. The mere contact knocked the wind out of Steve, both brows briefly escalating with surprise. His hand dropped Steve’s to delve into the blond strands and the captain’s eyes drew closed.

It was a beautifully drunk moment.

He pressed into Steve, pushing him until his back met the wall of the building. Steve didn’t even notice the taste of beer and whiskey. All he noticed—and craved—was the taste of Bucky’s lips. He finally let go of his fears, taking it all in by wrapping both arms around Bucky’s waist and pulling him in hard, lips parting with want.

Inside of the café could be heard the cacophony of drunken voices singing ‘Auld Lang Syne’ together, ringing in the new year in all different languages. The more Steve leaned into the kiss, the more he unintentionally dipped Bucky backwards into a small dip—something he never could have dreamed of doing before the war.

Bucky’s grip tightened around Steve’s neck, fingers tugging a bit harder in surprise. His lips parted and his tongue dared to venture forth to explore. Bucky widened his jaw and guided Steve’s head to turn to the right to deepen the kiss. The dance of tongues made Bucky tremble and his hips rolled. Nails scratched at Steve’s scalp, the strands pulled.

Bucky was brought upright again as Steve pressed his shoulders to the cold wall. Though he felt as though he could keep on kissing till doomsday, even Captain America needed oxygen once in a while. Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, lips still hovering close and hot breaths colliding in the winter air. Bucky was more breathless than he was and exhaled shakily before lazily leaning forward and slumping against Steve’s chest. Teeth scraped against the warmth of the captain’s neck, fingers pulling at the starched collar. With his nose pressed against hot skin, Bucky started to suck on Steve’s throat.

For the life of him, Steve couldn’t think of what to say in that moment. And so, what ended up coming out of his mouth was less-than-romantic.

 “… forgot to make a resolution…”

Bucky laughed and snorted, eyeing Steve with an askew expression. His face was mashed up against Steve’s thick neck, his mouth partially twisted and baby blues squinted. “…how about learning to dance…?” Chuckles rolled out of him.

Steve laughed too. The guy was definitely tipsy. “Now that I got the right partner, you’ll have to teach me then…” he murmured at Bucky’s ear, a smile forming. “Maybe not after you’ve had so much to drink…”

His hand worked its way upward along Bucky’s back, sliding up the nape of his neck to comb his fingers into the dark strands. A laugh echoed out in the distance, snapping Steve’s attention that way in an instant reminder that there were other people on the planet. Whoever it was, they were having fun elsewhere and out of sight. With a deep breath, Steve gently peeled Bucky off his neck enough to meet his gaze, and the sergeant moaned with resistance. The sound only made Steve’s core temperature rise and he had never wanted to get behind a closed door as fast as he did just now—now that he knew Bucky wanted him as much as he wanted Bucky.

“Mind if we go someplace… not public…?” Someplace private opened up a world of possibilities that already had his heart skip a beat. He wanted to be alone with Bucky, to be safe and away from any disturbance. “Besides, can’t have you freezing to death, you idiot…”

An arm was slung around Steve’s shoulder as Bucky let him lead the way. Steve pulled him in close with one arm around his tipsy friend’s waist, bringing them hip to hip.

“I got a room upstairs…” Bucky jutted a thumb at the café.

“Thank God…” He didn’t mean to say it aloud.

Bucky let out a bark of laughter and pressed his face into Steve’s shoulder. “Take it easy there, Cap…” he chided playfully. “It may be midnight but I’m not gonna turn into a pumpkin…”

He supported the majority of Bucky’s weight with ease, leading the way briskly (but not _too_ hastily) around the building and back inside. On his way, Steve plucked up his abandoned sketchbook with his free hand, easily slipping it into the wide pocket of his trench coat. Bucky, meanwhile, snatched up the virtually untouched pint that he originally brought for Steve.

The interior of the café was hot and stuffy compared to the winter air outside, and the revelers were far too preoccupied to pay much attention to the re-entrance of the Cap and Bucky. Dum Dum shouted from across the room, something about Barnes not being able to hold his liquor. Bucky contributed to the act by taking Dum Dum’s remark as a challenge and an insult. To prove him wrong, Bucky lifted up the beer and chugged. The beer went sloshing down his chin and dripped along the muscles in his neck, inevitably getting on Steve’s uniform as well.

Drinking _while_ ascending the stairs made Bucky slippery, but Steve was smiling like an idiot. Somehow James Buchanan Barnes managed to use alcohol as a morale booster. He was able to swallow about half of it before his lungs gave out, and with pride he held up the mug and teetered into Steve’s side. The Howling Commandos cheered and raised their own mugs in a salute.

Steve laughed and made the most of the perfect charade for leading his sauced friend upstairs. When they came to the top landing, he paused and looked down the stretch of hallway.

“Which room’s yours?” He managed not to sound too eager, but it was taking more restraint than he was used to to keep his hands and lips to himself.

“The one with the door…” Bucky murmured.

“That’s hilarious…”

Bucky then delved a hand into his pocket and pulled out a room key with a tag attached to it and shoved it at Steve. No. 4. Steve practically carried him to the correct door, and with a quick twist of the key, the door was opened. All the while, Bucky whistled Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood.”

One last glance left and right, to be sure no one was watching, and he nudged Bucky though the narrow doorway first. Once they were both over the threshold, he allowed Bucky to stand on his own two feet while he latched the door and securely locked it, leaving the key in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve ring in the new year by consummating the new level of their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit, graphic, smutty, sexy content ahead. Might wanna check the tags if you don't wanna read it to find out the details.

The closing of the door blocked out most of the noise from downstairs, shutting them in with quiet and darkness. There was just enough light coming in through the fogged window that shapes could be seen in the tiny room, and Steve’s eyes adjusted almost instantly.

They were finally alone together and the reality of it only just now solidified. He let out a nervous exhale as he closed the space between them, finally slowing down as he gently took Bucky’s whiskered face into his hands to bring their lips together and Bucky grunted. Right away the taste of beer flooded his mouth and he grinned into the kiss just before breaking it enough to speak.

“Ya know, that was supposed to be my drink…?” he teased quietly, his mouth trailing downward to lightly suckle the excess droplets of draft from Bucky’s chin, jaw, and down to his throat.

“You’re a lightweight, remember?”

Bucky managed to set the mug aside on the nightstand beside the bed, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each suckle from Steve. His hands were on Bucky’s hips, sliding upward beneath the sweat-and-beer-soaked shirt to get at the flesh beneath, aching to touch him.

But he had to let go when Bucky’s hands clumsily went to work at removing the Captain’s clothing. He unceremoniously yanked on Steve’s trench coat at the shoulders and shimmied it down over his biceps onto the floor, and Bucky mewled desperately while clawing at fabric. The desperate sounds were unlike anything Steve had ever heard and it was insanely arousing. Next came the tie which had been pulled, jerking Steve forward in the process to loosen it. Bucky attempted to pry the buttons apart, struggling with his undoubtedly double vision.

“Ugh…” he groaned out. “Why do you have to be so neat and orderly…” _Tug tug._

Steve laughed out loud at Bucky’s frustration, his happiness really making it difficult to keep it in. Nonetheless, he made the effort a little easier by unfastening a few of the remaining uniform buttons himself.

It was a painstaking task, but Bucky completed it. “You’re such a square…”

The badge covered jacket was out of the way and Steve’s white undershirt was now visible, along with the groves of his abdominal muscles. Steve took the opportunity to grab the hem of Bucky’s shirt, pulling it swiftly up and over his head along with the undershirt. He took in the curvatures of Bucky’s slightly smaller torso with his eyes and hands, trailing them down over the fine layer of hair.

He was torn between savoring every second and just going to town. They were at war, not on a honeymoon. Stealing one more drawn out kiss, he slipped his hand around Bucky’s and led him to the bed that waited in the dark. His blood was racing through his veins and there was a definite strain to his trousers. But he kept his sense enough to sit himself on the edge of the mattress to quickly get his shoes off. Thank God it wasn’t a pair of combat boots with a mile of laces to undo.

Meanwhile, Bucky took a set of matches from a corner desk and made his way to the old gas lamp that hung from the ceiling. Easing up on his tip-toes, he reached upward and inserted the match into the hole. A popping sound could be heard as the fragile mantle caught flame. He quickly retracted his hand and blew out the match.

The lighting of the gas lamp cast something of a spotlight on Bucky’s half-naked body, deepening the contrast of light and shadows that gave his lean muscles shape. Now that they had a clear agenda here, and no one had to pine in secret anymore, Steve let himself stare. Even if he was overdue for a shave and a comb, Bucky always seemed to be undeniably handsome, probably in no small part due to his heart of gold to match.

Bucky adjusted the brightness of the lamp by pulling on the chain then shuffled towards the bed, where he flung himself back onto the mattress and placed his hands behind his head. His legs dangled off the bed and he used his feet to pull of his shoes and kick them across the room.

Steve continued to take off his own socks and toss them away with the shoes before he began tugging at his own belt to complete the undressing process. But he paused, his chest rising and falling with restraint, and his brow suddenly furrowing.

“Bucky…” he said quietly. “What… _exactly_ are we doing? I mean, I know what we’re doing, but…” He cleared his throat. He would have been lost enough with a dame. But how did two fellas go about this?

Bucky’s abdominal muscles scrunched as he sat back up. Blinking hard he looked to Steve. “Well…” he began slowly, licking his lips. “I suppose we gotta… get somethin’ to, you know…” He cleared his throat and wrung his hands together. “…soften the blow…” He just made it sound like Steve was going to beat him up instead of making love to him.

Steve swallowed hard. Maybe this was more dangerous than he initially considered.

“With dames I guess I just use some spit or Vaseline…”

The classiness of the remark was the farthest thing from Steve’s mind as he squirmed a bit where he sat, his trousers feeling uncomfortably snug. He gave the fabric a good pull in an attempt for some breathing room.

“I really don’t think…. _spit's_ gonna cut it, Buck…” Vocal chords wavered, making Steve sound juvenile and he looked apologetically to his friend. “I uh… guess you could say that serum did more than just make my shoe size bigger…”

Bucky’s eyes widened.

The last thing he wanted to do was give Bucky a reason to panic. But he couldn’t help it. Ever since he was given the super soldier serum he’d accidentally damaged or broken his fair share of things. He didn’t want to add his best friend to the list.

Most guys would be proud of that. Steve was feeling kind of embarrassed. It wasn’t as though it was freakishly large or abnormal (to the best of his knowledge). It was just rather… impressive. He squirmed again, still sitting on the edge, his hands now clutching his knees tightly with expectation of Bucky calling it off altogether.

“How much bigger are we talkin’, Steve?” Now his voice cracked, too. Bucky didn’t seem nervous until Steve opened his big mouth, his eyes dipping downward to the Captain’s bulge.

“Um… at the moment..?” All he knew was that his pants fit better ten minutes ago.

Bucky’s tongue darted out to the corner of his mouth. Clearing his throat he leaned forward, his hand bypassing the band of Steve’s pants as his hands went right into the boxers. Steve leaned back in surprise, his palms flattening on the mattress behind him for support. Sergeant Barnes, drunk or sober, was one fearless individual. Without an ounce of shyness, he did his own investigating in the Cap’s underwear.

Steve was so unprepared to be groped that way that an exhale sputtered out of him, his fingers curling into the blanket. The already hardened member reacted instantly to the sensation of flesh on flesh and Steve’s brain reached a new level of flustered. Bucky was looking skyward as he felt around.

“Buck—I don’t—Is this… I mean, how—”

Everything came out in fragments. Whatever he had been trying to say, or thought he was trying to say, was silenced for good when Bucky proceeded to knock him aside to go for his beer on the nightstand. Steve dropped to leaning back on his elbows now, his eyes round as he watched Bucky take a large swallow of the draft.

“Feels…( _gulp_ )…normal…”

Steve blinked a few times, then frowned. “ _Really_?” His voice hit a higher pitch. He didn’t know if he was more off-guard by the diagnosed ‘normality’ or Bucky’s A-OK attitude of it all.

“I dunno…” Bucky said with a sloppy grin and placed the beer on the floor. “I mean, it’s not like a foot long from Coney Island…” A giggle slipped out of him.

Steve let out a hoarse chuckle with a slight rolling of his eyes. “I’ll take that as reassurance…”

Suddenly, that warm hand abandoned him, and though he felt a twinge of disappointment, it was replaced by anticipation of what was next. Steve may have been the commanding officer, but he was glad when Bucky took control.

Heat coursed through him when both of Bucky’s palms flattened themselves on Steve’s thighs and fingers bunched up the material. Steve had already started the process of taking off his pants by undoing the belt, and now Bucky seemed intent on finishing it. The sergeant slinked down onto the floor and crawled his hands upward.

Weren’t they supposed to stay on the bed?

His face was half hidden by a pant leg as he pressed a cheek into Steve’s calf. Nimble digits undid the zipper and he started to shimmy the drab fabric down. Steve’s arousal was quite clear now and peeking through his white boxers. Steve helped by slipping a thumb beneath the elastic waistline, his hips lifting off the mattress rather eagerly to move the fabric comfortably out of the way and exposing the light hair that covered muscular thighs.

The amount of lust that was burning through him overcame any amount of shyness he had left. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, all he knew was that he _wanted_ it. Badly.

Bucky was on his knees, a tender kiss placed on the inside of his thigh, causing a small startled sound to escape from Steve.

“I don’t know much about givin’ blow jobs…” said Bucky.

Dear God, is that what was happening?

“But I’ve gotten a few in my life.” Steve could hear the attempt to sound confident. “I think you might like it…”

Steve’s tongue trailed over his lips, feeling every vibration of Bucky’s words against his heated flesh. “Ooh… kay…” the two syllables shook out of him with a ridiculous amount of casualness.

There was a moment there that he felt selfish for not doing anything for Bucky just yet. Of course that guilt was gone the instant that a hand curled around the base of the erect shaft, the waft of Bucky’s breath ghosting over the swollen tip. His stomach muscles clenched when Bucky’s tongue lashed outward to flick across that tender slit. Slowly he circled the swollen head before his tongue dragged itself down the veined underside. Once again, Bucky let out pent up air and blew it across slick skin.

Steve’s eyes were half-lidded as he tried to watch. But Bucky’s lips parted and he lowered his head. His mouth was warm and inviting as he took in Steve’s length. Steve’s eyes closed at the onslaught of pleasure. Careful not to gag himself, Bucky slowed and retracted that wet head. Holding on the base of Steve’s member he lowered his head once more, sucking harder this time.

The more Bucky consumed, the more Steve’s head lulled back to hang from his broad shoulders. He was withdrawn, then taken into Bucky’s insanely good mouth again, and Steve’s hand reached downward, closing his fingers into the dark scalp. A closed-mouth moan escaped when the next pull was stronger than the last and he resisted the urge to push into that generous mouth.

The obscenity of the situation should have been more prevalent on the brain of a virgin like Steve, but no matter how wrong this sort of position was purported to be, it felt completely _right._ Steve’s entire world was narrowed down to the inside of Bucky’s mouth, unaware of the freehand that was moving between his muscled thighs. Steve managed to contain the noises that threatened to emerge with each burst of pleasure that Bucky provoked.

But when fingers took to manipulating those fleshy sacs and pressing the span between anus and cock, a low moan finally rolled out through parted lips. Bucky located and targeted a spot on Steve’s body that the good captain didn’t even know existed, and with a simple massage, had Steve dropping flat onto his back, the base of his skull pressing into the blanket as his back began to arch.

For a moment, Bucky took his hand away and Steve could hear him fumbling with his own zipper and belt. In the process, he unintentionally drove Steve’s cock further in his throat. He drew back just a bit to suppress a cough. He regained composure and control by once again circling his tongue around that pulsating head. His hand took hold of Steve’s length once more and guided it back to where his throat muscles contracted, swallowing down a bead of precum.

Steve’ broad chest was rising and falling heavily, his teeth occasionally scraping his bottom lip as he crushed a fist into the mattress, fighting down the need to let out a full groan. He might have been in the throes of ecstasy, but there was still a sliver of awareness that if they made enough noise, there were people to hear it.

Just when Steve began to think this was the pinnacle, Bucky took him in further. His throat relaxed and he let Steve’s thick member slide deeper within that warm mouth. His tongue slid along the shaft, flattening to make room.

The throbbing head hit the hot, softer flesh of Bucky’s throat. With one hand still raking into the sergeant’s hair, Steve’s other latched onto the mattress for dear life over his own head. Muscles were beginning to harden, his body arching in an attempt not to writhe too much under Bucky’s deft handiwork.

“Bucky…” he choked out desperately. “Oh my God…”

Steve Rogers wasn’t above a curse or an oath when there was a time and place for it. This was certainly a time and a place and God’s name was being breathed in vain with almost every exhale. He didn’t mean to pull the other man’s hair, but it made Bucky let out a pleasurable groan, the sound dancing across the surface of Steve’s shaft. He was quickly approaching the edge as the pressure built in his lower back.

Being pleasured by another man—heck, another person—was all kinds of new for Steve. Every stroke, suckle, and push from Bucky was a learning experience that left the captain’s head spinning. He wanted everything Bucky had to offer, even if he didn’t know what that entailed.

Abs and biceps seemed to be flexed permanently as the heat built up in his stomach and loins. He was getting painfully close when suddenly Bucky’s fingers slunk further back to probe the outside of that puckered opening and his index slid inside.

Eyes, which had been pinched shut with pleasure, popped wide open. Steve gasped, muscles instinctively clenching down on the invasion— _hard._ Harder than Steve realized and probably enough to crack walnuts. He lifted his head to look down the length of his own body, still heaving and now confused.

“What are you… What?”

Was this supposed to be part of it? Because Steve was not prepared in the least for that! Nonetheless, his hand didn’t pull away from the damp locks of Bucky’s hair and he didn’t tell him to stop. The only explanation Steve got was a wiggle of that inserted finger as it pushed harder inside against the fighting muscles, Bucky all the while watching Steve carefully.

That finger wasn’t withdrawn when Steve reacted with some alarm. No, the jerk had a crooked smile and would have been laughing if his mouth wasn’t full. Blues met blues, and he could see the amusement in Bucky’s eye. Sergeant Barnes wasn’t going to back down, he was on a mission. It wasn’t anything new for him to push Steve’s limits, or even his own, for the sake of adventure.

Though his trust in Bucky played a large part in it, Steve didn’t want to be the first to back down. Whatever Bucky had for him, he wanted to prove he could handle it. The finger went even deeper and Steve relaxed enough to let it. But it was strange. How could it not be? He grunted from the odd sensation combined with the thrilling effects of Bucky’s relentless mouth. The finger moved, delved, and suddenly hit something that flashed white-hot through Steve’s entire body.

He had managed to hold eye contact until the spot was reached, throwing his head back on the bed again as he was not only pushed over the edge, but launched over it. A full-bodied moan rose out of him, half surprise and half mania as the muscles in his body spasmed and locked, bursting for release.

“Bucky—” he gasped out a meek warning just before he lost all control.

The hot seed shot out, his member pulsating with each expulsion as the orgasm rolled through him. Where most men’s bodies would shut down, Steve’s was still revving for more, even though his lungs worked hard through the overwhelming rapture. Small moans were still escaping, but a palm fell over his eyes as he murmured hoarsely.

“God, Bucky… I’m so sorry…” He was kind of afraid to look.

The sergeant pulled back and cold air hit the spent, but-not-yet-finished, organ. Steve heard the mug of the beer picked up again and gulped from. Then Bucky was laughing at him.

“At least you didn’t splatter my brains all over the wall when you came,” he snorted. “I took a gamble with my life, really...”

Steve frowned under the hand that covered his face. Bucky was making fun of him now.

“That super soldier serum enhanced everything, ya know?” Bucky teased.

Steve finally let out a weak laugh that ended in a groan, his hand dropping from his eyes as he lifted himself back onto his elbows. There was a fixed smirk on the captain’s face, the lust far from diminished in his eyes as he looked to the beautifully cheeky expression on Bucky’s face. He leaned forward, looming nearer to Bucky’s beer-scented lips.

“You’re damn right it enhanced everything.”

A hand curled around the chain that hung from Bucky’s neck, pulling just enough to urge the sergeant upward to get him off the floor and onto the bed. Steve kissed him hungrily, taking in the taste of the salty remnant mixed with draft. It was then that he noticed Bucky had freed himself from his own pants, sporting his own unsatisfied erection.

Bucky sat down on the bed then laid back, his hands placed behind his head, fingers interlocking to support his skull. He kicked off his hanging trousers and boxers, leaving him fully naked. Sinewy muscle covered bone, scars from battle etched into his flesh. The sight of him was more than enough to keep Steve’s blood hot.

Without hesitation, Steve took hold of the other man’s neglected organ, his hand wrapping firmly—but gently!—around the end before pushing down along the shaft, then back. After what Bucky had given him, he wanted to be sure he returned the favor. Bucky gasped, his lower lip drawn inward by his front teeth. Unlike Steve, he moaned loudly after the first stroke, and the sound sent a shot of electricity through Steve to know that he had caused it.

Steve weighed down on top of him, feeling the other body writhe beneath him as Bucky’s hips rolled to buck into Steve’s hand. His lips wandered down, his tongue seeming to act on instinct as it lapped up the sweat on the sergeant’s neck.

 “ _Dieu bénisse le rouge, blanc, et bleu…_ ” he murmured.

When in France, it seemed Bucky found it appropriate to speak the language of love. Steve chuckled against Bucky’s throat, then reluctantly rolled off to pull away the last barrier of his own clothes. Pants were kicked away and the snug undershirt pulled over his head, mussing the blond comb-over before it was thrown to the floor with the rest.

Steve was over him again, bare flesh meeting, his hand trailing upward along Bucky’s thigh to return to work on the stiff member. Bucky’s arms curled around him, his nails digging into Steve’s back and clawing down the length of his spine to leave behind deep red marks. It made the captain’s back muscles flex, the smaller hairs standing on end. Steve’s knee was planted between Bucky’s and he resisted the need to grind down on him.

He was beyond ready for more. He’d never felt so much need for one person, body and soul. Steve’s hand continued to stroke him, each pull a little less forgiving than the last. His breathing was heavy as he kissed the flesh just beneath Bucky’s ear, provoking another moan. Bucky was shamelessly loud. Hands clutched at Steve’s rear and squeezed as Bucky forced the Captain harder against him.

Suddenly, Steve let go, his palms flattening on the mattress as he lifted himself off the other man. But his lips remained at Bucky’s ear to whisper hotly.

“On your front, soldier…”

That was an order.

Bucky obediently rolled over and balanced on all fours. Palms braced themselves on the mattress, his fingers curling into the bed sheets with obvious anticipation. His rear was perched in the air, spine bent and muscles tense.

“Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, ready for active duty, Captain!” Bucky’s voice was strong as he barked out the response.

There was a part of Steve that found all of this terrifying, but that was a surprising part of the thrill. This brought a whole new spin to them playing soldiers together. Captain he might have been, but he was following Bucky’s lead with some tactical adjustments. A hand slid up the length of Bucky’s back, fingers massaging between shoulder blades, the muscles relaxing beneath his touch. Steve’s hand then moved back down to Bucky’s hips to return to stroking the other man’s erection attentively, his thumb swiping over the dewed tip for a little extra stimulation. Bucky let out a throaty moan.

Meanwhile, his other hand was far from idle. He closed his mouth over his thumb, pulling it out with a generous about of saliva coating it. That same hand took hold of one of the sergeant’s cheeks, fingers kneading the soft flesh as his wetted thumb pressed at the tight opening but didn’t immediately penetrate. He wanted to make sure Bucky had a little more warning than he had given Steve. Steve’s heart was pounding with anticipation, his erection even more so, and he pushed the digit inside.

A strangled sound seemed to get caught in Bucky’s throat and Steve could feel him tremble. But Bucky started to rock on his knees, taking in deep breaths. That ringed opening was hesitant to allow Steve’s thumb admittance, but Bucky groaned with what sounded like a mixture of pleasure and pain. Steve was aching for him, but he wasn’t about to let selfishness cause his friend any pain. He watched tentatively as Bucky’s fists twisted into the bed sheets and he spread his legs wider.

“I can take it, Cap…” The voice of a true soldier commanding his words.

Taking the cue, Steve pushed the digit in deeper, stroking the inner walls that clenched around it. Bucky had educated him on a magic spot somewhere in there, but he wasn’t looking for it just now. Instead, he was working the muscles, trying to urge them to relax. The entire thumb was buried now, withdrawing then entering again slowly as it curled just slightly. It was taking everything he had not to be too eager, but that didn’t mean he held back the needy groan that rose up from his throat, which was echoed by Bucky.

Bending forward, he kissed the sweat soaked flesh of Bucky’s shoulders, his hard member pressing against him. Hot flesh met hot flesh and Bucky’s spine bent with the addition of weight. Bucky was gradually sinking downward. It reminded Steve that just because he was far from fatigue, that didn’t mean Bucky was. Only when the muscles seemed to be loosening enough did he withdraw his thumb, hips moving and rubbing his length against Bucky’s rear, but not daring to go further just yet.

“You sure about this…?” Steve’s voice was strained.

If there was a time to call it quits, it was now. But if he knew Bucky as well as he thought he did, neither of them were going to stop.

A shudder ran through Bucky as he lowered himself onto his elbows and turned his head to look over his shoulder. “Yes…”

Steve lifted his lips from the hot flesh of Bucky’s back, meeting those crystalline blues. His heart was pounding, but he gave the subtlest of nods. Letting go of the other man’s weeping member, Steve rose upright onto his knees. One hand braced itself on Bucky’s hip, the other opened up towards the ceiling and he spit into his own palm. His doubt in this form of lubrication wasn’t completely gone, but they couldn’t just run to the store to get what they needed. This was crude and he tried not to dwell on it as he took his own stiffened organ into hand, adding his own saliva to whatever lingered from Bucky’s little oral experiment.

Then, aligning the tip of his swollen head to that tight opening, he applied pressure, but didn’t enter. His chest met Bucky’s shoulder blades, one strong arm wrapping around under his friend’s arm and across his chest to hold him up and hold him close. Bucky’s head lowered so that his chin rested on Steve’s forearm.

With one slow push, he penetrated with just the tip and Bucky gasped. Hot breath expelled against the nape of Bucky’s neck at the tightness, the surge of pleasure already coursing through him. He could feel the tension in Bucky at the breach, but it was the sound that it produced that made Steve pause. Bucky gave out a strangled cry, a sound that Steve didn’t even know the man’s vocal chords could produce. But Bucky stifled the sound, his lips against Steve’s arm.

“You okay?” Steve whispered.

Bucky nodded without a word. His eyes were squeezed shut as he seemed to put effort into simply breathing, his nostrils flaring. He had a tight grip on the crook of Steve’s arm, leaving half-moon imprints in the skin from dull nails.

“Keep going…” he rasped.

Bucky started to move his hips, those tight walls cinching around Steve’s cock and earning a sharp grunt from the captain. Bucky’s own weeping member rubbed against the bed sheets and the pain seemed to be replaced by pleasure as Bucky’s groans turned towards ecstasy.

With a small adjustment, Steve tightened his embrace, spreading his own knees just a bit for better balance to push in a little deeper. He withdrew with a sot moan, thrusting again and again and deeper each time. His hips moved slowly at first, feeling the increasing ease of the insertion.

But Bucky didn’t have the same patience that Steve did and initiated a change in the pace by gyrating his hips, adding to the intensifying pleasure. Each groan that Bucky let out was answered with another thrust, and an open mouthed moan from Steve, whose eyes were pinching shut. Bucky’s nails dug deeper into Steve’s arm. The bed rocked furiously and Bucky’s body was shuddering violently. Flesh repeatedly met flesh, and Steve could feel the pressure building again. An extra sheen of sweat was beginning to dampen his brow.

He caught himself letting out an almost animalistic growl, but he bared his teeth, his forehead pressing into the bone of Bucky’s shoulder. He didn’t stop moving.

“We need to be quiet, Buck…!” he grunted out, the statement ending in a well-vocalized moan.

“Steve… I can’t…” Words were cut off when that swollen head hit that sacred spot.

Bucky bellowed upon orgasm, warm seed shot forth in sticky strands coating the bed sheet. His body was wracked with shivers and he became heavier in Steve’s grip, his body a little more slippery from the sweat that coated his flesh. In a pathetic attempt to keep going, Bucky writhed with each thrust of the Cap’s powerful hips, clearly trying to make Steve come for a second time tonight.

Steve was close enough to where it only took a degree of willpower and the last shred of Bucky’s stamina for him to finally reach his second climax. For the second time, the release came inside Bucky, Steve’s muscles clenching and shaking, his thrusting reduced to a slow roll to ride out the dying waves of pleasure with a moan that was muffled by Bucky’s back. The sergeant gasped and shuddered, warmth coating those tight walls and dripping down his thighs.

He only felt slightly more spent than the first time, but ten times more satisfied. He knew he was capable of so much more, but Bucky wasn’t. Everything was ultra-sensitive, so it was with the utmost care that he slowly withdrew himself all the way. He didn’t let go of Bucky yet, though. Supporting the other man’s weight, Steve rolled them both until he, too, was lying on the bed on his side. Bucky pressed his back against Steve, resting his head on his forearm. They were a mess of bodily fluids, but at the moment, contentment took precedence.

Steve wrapped both arms around him, holding him as close as was humanly possible. Though he wasn’t particularly tired, his eyes fluttered closed as well. No thought or interest was beyond the two of them in that bed. He didn’t even hear the music from downstairs anymore or the late night noises of the party. They breathed quietly together and Steve could feel his friend already drifting off to sleep, but Bucky still mumbled.

“I love you…”

This wasn’t the ‘I love ya, man’ that they had exchanged in the past. This struck deeper and Steve’s throat tightened. His chest expanded with a deep intake of breath, battling the sudden stinging in his eyes. He pressed his cheek to that dark scalp with a small disbelieving smile.

“I love you, too…” he softly murmured the words he didn’t think he’d ever be able to say.

It wasn’t soon after that they both slipped into slumber.


End file.
